Heated
by hepster
Summary: It's easy for an argument to become heated, especially with someone you can't stand.  Note: this is not meant to be taken seriously. It's called a crack shipping, people.


"You're such an asshole!"

"Tell me something I don't know, cupcake!"

They had been shouting at each other like this for well over twenty minutes. It had started out as one of their usual arguments. Zoey was right, Nick was wrong; Zoey was wrong, Nick was right. It's this way, not that way! Why the hell would you use a sub-machine gun when you had the power of a hunting rifle in your hands? Pink is a horrible colour on you. So is white. You totally cheated at our poker game last night; you're a conman for god's sake.

"I should have just let the zombies overrun me. Anything's better than having to deal with you," she glared at him from across the safe room, which wasn't very roomy at all. There was a couch, a mini fridge, and some basic supplies, all confined within the very cramped room. It was difficult for Zoey to stay as far away from him as possible when the walls of the room only allowed her to be about a foot away from the conman. Needless to say, she wasn't too thrilled about it.

"Trust me, princess, I'm not thrilled about it either! Maybe I'd have some actual peace and quiet around here if you weren't around," he harshly replied.

She became even more enraged at him than she was before. She could barely contain her anger and didn't give a damn about how far away from him she wanted to be. He was getting a piece of her mind loud mind, whether he wanted it or not. "Oh, I'm the loud one? Have you ever heard yourself sleep? You snore louder than a fucking Hunter growling at us! Not to mention that I have to listen to your snide comments all the time along with gunshots that make my ears ring because I'm trying to kill Infected that are always growling and moaning every minute of the day! You want peace and quiet? Go jump off a bridge. Preferably a very tall one."

"I don't snore," he said, taking a few steps closer towards her. He was trying to not let his irritation at the stupid brat get the too out of hand, but she needed to know who the hell was calling the shots in their unfortunate partnership.

"Oh, of course not Nick. You would know because you're conscious to hear yourself sleeping safe and sound," She rolled her eyes at his idiocracy. God, men sometimes. Or all the time, considering her case.

"You're so clever, did you come up with that one all by yourself?"

"I'm learning from the best, aren't I?"

"Brat."

"Jerk."

"Scrawny."

"Old."

"Moody!"

"Brooding!"

"Bitch!"

"Bastard!"

With each word, they had moved closer to each other. Their fury was fueling a tension in the atmosphere was so thick, a Tank could have come crashing through the pathetic walls of concrete and would have been stopped right in its tracks by it. Their breaths hung in the air, mingling together in a combination of the gourmet lunch of stale peanuts and Doritos they had had earlier in the day. Their eyes locked. Their breathing slowed, just like everything else.

Then suddenly, they were on each other, the teenager jumping onto him and wrapping her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. His arms immediately held her tightly to him, wanting to fell every damn part of her on him. Their lips were pushing and pulling at each other's, battling for dominance in the twisted heat of the moment.

He started moving them towards the couch and practically threw her down upon the stained cushions, following right after her. They kissed again, then separated, and then kissed yet again, both of them frantically working at each other's shirts. Zoey's jacket zipper was easy to pull down; Nick's suit jacket was being a god-damn pain in the ass. She glanced up at him and saw that cocky triumphant smirk of his looming down over her. She counteracted by pulling him back towards her, only this time, she was biting his lower lip so hard she thought she was going to pull the skin away from it. He closed his eyes as he let out a sound of satisfaction while she finally managed to get his ruined blazer and shirt away from his chest.

He pulled her back into an upright position and started kissing her bare skin. He moved from the top of her neck, down to her collar bone and back up again, which left her moaning like a mad woman. When he reached her face, he looked her right in the eyes.

"You're still a brat," he panted.

"And you're still an ass, now stop talking," she said before reaching behind his neck and pulling him down on top of her as they began to lip lock once again.

Talk about a heated argument


End file.
